The Hermitess of Caras Galadhon
by Thalion Estel
Summary: While in Lothlórien, Frodo and Sam cannot seem to find relief from their sorrow. With Gandalf gone, will joy and hope ever live in their hearts again? The question is answered when Galadriel narrates to the sad hobbits something she can see in a magical pool.


Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it.

**Author's note: This takes a big chunk directly out of **_**The Horse and His Boy**_**, and C.S. Lewis has some, let's just say, interesting grammar ideas. Therefore, that section contains some strange punctuation and word choice, and, while it is fun to read, it is not the way I normally write. So when you review (notice I did not say "if"), feel free to give me some pointers, but know that a decent portion of this is not mine. It really does make my day when I get reviews. Please let me know if you enjoyed this story by taking five seconds of your time to write me a review.**

The Hermitess of Caras Galadhon

"I'd dearly love to see some Elf-magic, Mr. Frodo!" Sam said as the two hobbits walked through the trees of Lothlórien together. "Though I don't suppose anything, even something magical, could lift the heavy sadness we're feeling. Oh, how I miss Gandalf!"

"As do I, Sam," Frodo said soberly. "However, there is little that can be done."

"This land does heal our grief a little, though," Sam said, trying to find something cheerful. "I'm sure my spirits would rise if we could see the Lady again."

Even as he spoke, they saw, as if in answer to their words, the Lady Galadriel approaching. Tall and white and fair, she walked beneath the trees. She beckoned to them, and they followed her silently through the forest, down a flight of steps, and into a green hollow. In its midst was a small, quiet pool, which drew the hobbits' attention immediately.

They could see it was a magic pool; instead of reflecting the trees and the sky, it revealed cloudy and colored shapes moving, always moving, in its depths. Though they gazed into it, they could see nothing clearly.

"My lady," Sam began somewhat nervously, "what is this pool?"

"In the Elder days," Galadriel began, "I saw and did much in the world. It is now my part in the tale of this age to remain here. However, this pool allows me to see what happens beyond the green borders of my land. I can see ships anchoring in the ports of Gondor, or orcs stirring in the blackness of Mordor, or even the events of other worlds.

"Other worlds?" Frodo asked in astonishment. "There are other worlds?"

"Yes. Even now, the pool clears for my eyes, and I see the land on which my mind has often dwelt these past weeks."

"What land is that?" Sam asked.

"There are three countries in this land: Narnia, Archenland, and Calormen. The former two have good kings and loyal subjects. The latter is ruled by a tyrant, and its people are evil. I have been watching, in the last few months, the journeys of a young boy. His tale is long, but I think you will benefit from hearing it.

"In brief, the boy, Shasta, lived almost all his life in the detestable land of Calormen. He is not of that race, but was lost from the North as a babe. He lived with a cruel fisherman in his youth, until a great lord of that land, called a Tarkaan, came to his home. While his master and the lord slept, Shasta discovered that the steed of the lord was a Talking Beast from the free north. Together, they escaped and travelled north, hoping to reach Narnia. They gained two companions, but when they reached Archenland, Shasta was given a task to undertake on his own. Rabadash, the son of Calormen's tyrant, planned a vengeful attack on Archenland's King Lune, and the evil prince is, I believe, near the castle of Anvard as we speak. Shasta is now with the Narnian King Edmund and Archenland's young Prince Corin. There are probably many others with them. Would you like me to speak more of it?"

"Oh yes!" Sam said with delight. "What is happening right now?"

Galadriel turned all her focus onto the pool, and she seemed to change her tone as she began relating what she saw. "I see one—two—three eagles wheeling in the gap by Stormness Head."

"Stormness Head?" Sam asked in confusion.

"A mountain of that realm," Galadriel explained quickly before returning to her description of the events. "One is the oldest of all eagles. He would not be out unless battle was a hand. I see him wheel to and fro, peering down sometimes at Anvard and sometimes to the east, behind Stormness. Ah—I see now what Rabadash and his men have been so busy at all day. They have felled and lopped a great tree and they are now coming out of the woods carrying it as a ram. They have learned something from the failure of last night's assault. He would have been wiser if had set his men to making ladders: but it takes too long and he is impatient. Fool that he is! He ought to have ridden back to Tashbaan as soon as the first attack failed, for his whole plan depended on speed and surprise. Now they are bringing their ram into position. King Lune's men are shooting hard from the walls. Five Calormenes have fallen: but not many will. They have their shields above their heads. Rabadash is giving his orders now. With him are his most trusted lords, fierce Tarkaans from the eastern provinces. I can see their faces. There is Corradin of Castle Tormunt, and Azrooh, and Chlamash, and Ilgamuth of the twisted lip, and a tall Tarkaan with a crimson beard—"

"A crimson beard!" Sam exclaimed, shaking his head. "What outlandishness! My gaffer would have a thing to say about—"

"S-s-sh," said Frodo.

"Now the ram has started," Galadriel continued. "If I could hear as well as see, what a noise that would make! Stroke after stroke: and no gate can stand it forever."

"I can't say that I believe that," Sam interjected. "From all that Boromir's said about the gates of his city, I should think a fellow would need more than a tree to knock it down."

Frodo shot Sam a look that told him to be quiet. Both hobbits turned toward Galadriel as she suddenly started back.

"But wait! Something up by Stormness has scared the birds. They're coming out in masses. And wait again . . . I can't see yet . . . ah! Now I can. The whole ridge, up on the east, is black with horsemen. If only the wind would catch that standard and spread it out. They're over the ridge now, whoever they are. Aha! I've seen the banner now. Narnia, Narnia! It's the red lion. They're in full career down the hill. I can see King Edmund. There's a woman behind among the archers. Oh!—"

"What is it?" asked Sam breathlessly.

"All his cats are dashing out from the left of the line."

"Cats?" said Frodo.

"Great cats, leopards and such," said Galadriel impatiently. "I see, I see. The Cats are coming round in a circle to get at the horses of the dismounted men. A good stroke. The Calormene horses are mad with terror already. Now the Cats are in among them. But Rabadash has re-formed his line and has a hundred men in the saddle. They're riding to meet the Narnians. There's only a hundred yards between the lines now. Only fifty. I can see King Edmund, I can see the Lord Peridan. There are two mere children in the Narnia line. What can the King be about letting them into the battle? Only ten yards—the lines have met. The Giants on the Narnian side are doing wonders . . . but one's down . . . shot through the eye, I suppose. The center's all in a muddle. I can see more on the left. There are the two boys again. By the Valar! one is Prince Corin. The other, like him as two peas. It's the boy Shasta. Corin is fighting like a man. He's killed a Calormene. I can see a bit of the center now. Rabadash and Edmund almost met then, but the press has separated them—"

"What about Shasta?" said Frodo, worrying for the endangered young boy.

"Oh the fool!" groaned Galadriel. "Poor, brave little fool. He knows nothing about this work. He's making no use at all of his shield. His whole side's exposed. He hasn't the faintest idea what to do with his sword. Oh, he's remembered it now. He's waving it wildly about . . . nearly cut his own pony's head off, and he will in moment if he's not careful. It's been knocked out of his hand now. Its mere murder sending a child into the battle; he can't live five minutes. Duck you fool—oh, he's down."

"Killed?" asked the two breathless hobbits.

"How can I tell?" said Galadriel. "The Cats have done their work. All the riderless horses are dead or escaped now: no retreat for the Calormenes on _them_. Now the Cats are turning back into the main battle. They're leaping on the rams-men. The ram is down. Oh, good! good! The gates are opening from the inside: there's going to be a sortie. The first three are out. It's King Lune in the middle: the brothers Dar and Darrin on each side of him. Behind them are Tran and Shar and Cole and with his brother Collin. There are ten—twenty—nearly thirty of them out by now. The Calormen line is being forced back upon them. King Edmund is dealing marvelous strokes. He's just slashed Corradin's head off. Lots of Calormenes have throws down their arms and are running for the woods. Those that remain are hard pressed. The Giants are closing in on the right—Cats on the left—King Lune from the rear. The Calormenes are a little knot now, fighting back to back. Your outlandish Tarkaan's down, Sam. Lune and Azrooh are fighting hand to hand; the King looks like he's winning—the King is keeping it up well—the King has won. Azrooh is down. King Edmund's down—no, he's up again: he's at it with Rabadash. They're fighting in the very gate of the castle. Several Calormenes have surrendered. Darrin has killed Ilgamuth. I can't see what's happened to Rabadash. I think he's dead, leaning against the castle wall, but I don't know. Chlamash and King Edmund are still fighting but the battle is over everywhere else. Chlamash has surrendered. The battle _is_ over. The Calormenes are utterly defeated."

"Can you see the cruel man, that Rah-bah-dash, yet?" Frodo asked.

"Ah, yes. I see him now. Rabadash is furious! His face is crimson! He appears to be suspended from the castle walls. His feet, which are about two feet from the ground, are kicking wildly. His chain-shirt is somehow hitched up so that it is horribly tight under the arms and covering half his face. In fact, he looks just like a man would if you caught him in the very act of getting into a stiff shirt that was a little too small for him. He's like a piece of washing hung up to dry!"

The hobbits laughed together. "Serves him right!" Frodo chuckled.

"He seems to be yelling something to King Edmund, but King Lune is ignoring it. Several strong men have wrenched away Rabadash's sword, and he's being carried away. He's shouting and cursing, and even crying. He could probably endure torture, but he cannot bear being made ridiculous."

"Rabadash the Ridiculous," Frodo said with a smile. "What a fitting title."

"But what about Shasta! What's happened to Shasta?" Sam demanded.

"I see him now. He's picked himself up and looks slightly dazed. Prince Corin is coming over and is pulling him across the battlefield. He's brought Shasta to King Lune, and they are talking about something. Lord Darrin has come over and joined the conversation. While it looks like the King is scolding the Prince, his expression reveals a great pride in his son. Now the King has turned to Shasta and embraced him, kissing him on both cheeks. King Lune has addressed the court of men around him. He's gesturing to the two boys. Now the court has erupted in cheers."

"About what?" Sam asked.

"I cannot be certain," Galadriel said, "for I cannot hear them. However, I have watched this boy for a long time, and I perceive that he has found the father from whom he was separated in his infancy."

"Oh, how wonderful!" Sam said, wiping away a small tear of joy. "He's a prince! I have not been so happy since before Moria! I was wrong, Mr. Frodo: it appears that Elf-magic can lift my sorrow. What luck that all of Shasta's travels brought him to his father!"

"On the contrary," Galadriel said solemnly, "I have lived thousands of winters in this world and have never met any such thing as luck. The Lion of Narnia has been watching over Shasta and protecting him from the time he was born. Eru has provided for him at every step of his journey, and Shasta's life has unfolded just as the Lion planned."

"So the Lion and Eru are one," Frodo said slowly.

"Indeed. And just as in Narnia, Eru watches over you here. You need not worry that evil will prevail against His wishes. His purpose shall come to pass no matter what, and if it is His desire that your quest should be completed, then you can be assured that it will be so."

"That's a pleasant promise to know," Frodo said, reaching his hand to his chest and feeling the Ring beneath his clothes. "I hope I remember it when my path leads into darkness."

"Light always penetrates darkness," Galadriel said with a smile. "Eru will never leave you or forsake you. Trust in Him, and He will lead you where He wills."

"That sounds like the safest place to be, Mr. Frodo," Sam commented thoughtfully. "In accordance with the Lion's will."


End file.
